Still Needed
by Expressive Dissonance
Summary: Pre-AC. On a lone cliff side near Edge, a soul denies passage into the next life and waits until it isn't needed anymore. Slight Bleach crossover-pretty much a cameo. Non-yaoi, although there are assumptions made otherwise.


Quiet: I have…no idea where this came from. And I'm not one for Bleach fanfics, so don't be upset if I got something wrong, ya?

Once again, my lovely beta, ohxasphyxiationx, has come to the rescue!

* * *

"You don't wanna stay here. Moving on isn't so bad, y'know."

"I'm sure it isn't."

"Well then, why don't you just go ahead and pass on?"

He laughed, head thrown back and eyes crinkling in mirth as he put his hands on his hips and eyed the broken city on the horizon. "Sorry, kid, not just yet."

He'd never seen a dead person that was so…happy before. Or maybe not happy so much as cheerful.

"So…what're you doing here, man?"

Those blue, blue eyes were full of a weary amusement as the soul looked at him and gave a small grin. "I'm waiting."

He waited, but the guy had gotten tight-lipped and was instead lightly brushing his fingers through the small bouquet of flowers on the Cliffside. "For…?"

Now the amusement was full-blown. "Till I'm not needed anymore."

"By who…?"

A sound. There was a motorcycle zooming its way up the highway in a direct beeline for the place they were at.

The ghost stood with a light stretch and dusted his black pants- as if he could get dirty- before tucking his hands into his pockets; a fond smile lit his eyes and settled on his face as he stared at the approaching vehicle.

So whatever was holding him back from crossing over must have something to do with the person speeding their way up to the Midgar Cliffside. Despite his impatience to get the job done, the black-robed spirit stepped back and watched as the rider slid to a stop a few feet away. It was a blond with riding goggles and a wicked-looking sword on his back that levered himself off the sweet ride; a quick tug and the goggles fell away to reveal bright blue eyes that had an eerie shine not unlike the odd ghost's. The greatest difference, however, was in the cold, tired gaze under golden blond spikes.

"Spike…" the departed man whispered. The soul reaper cringed. This was the part he hated the most about gathering lost souls; that moment of keen disappointment when they realized that their loved ones couldn't see or hear them. To his surprise, the blond man raised those striking eyes and stared at the spot where the brunet was before giving a tiny, nearly imperceptible lift of his lips.

"He can see you?" the reaper asked in amazement.

But the ghost wasn't too keen answering questions at the moment; his entire being was focused on the man before him, as if he wanted to defy the hands of death and take the blond into his arms. The blond man merely shook his head.

"You're going insane, Cloud," he murmured to himself, and turned his gaze towards the rusting sword on the Cliffside.

"Dreams and pride…I wonder if I lived out yours…?"

"You did," the ghost man says quietly, gingerly touching the broken soul chain on his chest, "You did a helluva lot more than I ever could've done."

Okay, now he was getting distinctly uncomfortable with the way things were going. It seemed like such a private moment…maybe he should delay this particular mission until the poor guys found some kind of closure… Yeah, that was it!

"Hey," he called to the brunette man, "I have a deal to make with ya!"

Glancing over at the robed man in surprise—as if he'd forgotten he was even there—the ghost tilted its head in confusion. "This isn't one of those cliché romance movie moments where I make a deal with death to be alive again in exchange for my soul, is it?"

A startled whuff of laughter burst from the reaper's lips. "Where the hell did you get that idea? No, it's nothing like that," he assured, giving the silently musing blond an appraising glance.

So they were lovers then, eh? Then there really _was_ no harm in letting the poor guy stay…he seemed like a pretty strong spirit capable of holding onto his memories. Wasn't that why this world's soul cycle had called out for help in subduing the rogue spirit? "Nah, I was gonna say that I could give you more time with your boyfriend here so long as you promise to call me once he doesn't need you anymore. You have to move on _eventually_, but usually spirits with unfinished business are the ones that cause the most trouble on the other side, y'know?"

Those vibrant eyes lit up with hope and he gave the reaper an ear-splitting grin. "I can do that!"

"Good," the soul reaper said, opening a portal back to the Seireitei. "What's your name anyway?"

"Zack. I'm Zack," the ghost answered, with that cheerful grin still in place. "Can I ask who I need to call for when I'm ready to go?"

"Renji. Just call my name and I'll come." For a minute, he paused and looked at the blond, who had sat himself on the edge of the cliff, gazing into the distance; then he looked back at the ghost, who was gazing upon the silent man with rapt attention.

"Best of luck man," he said, stepping through the portal.

He had a feeling that guy was gonna need it.


End file.
